


Windswept

by GizmoTrinket



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: (s) lol, Alpha John Watson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anal Sex, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Dragon John Watson, Eating Disorders, Extremely Dubious Consent, First Time Blow Jobs, Happy Ending, Implied Mpreg, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Near Drowning, OOC, Omega Sherlock Holmes, Shapeshifting, War, body fluids, fight to the death, inappropriate use of yoga positions, mentioned eggpreg, not as dark as it sounds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-23
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 16:48:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30075285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GizmoTrinket/pseuds/GizmoTrinket
Summary: Sherlock enjoys the upper echelons of human society and the freedom he has to study all day.John enjoys the echelons of his military unit as they soar across lands.Unwittingly, they trade both for each other. They can't go back, but if they work together they can get something even better.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Kudos: 8





	Windswept

**Author's Note:**

> So, my alpha sherlock dragon fic was heavy on D&D and The Hobbit. This one is going to lean on How To Train Your Dragon and Pern. It’s a little outside what I normally write but it’s always good to try new things, right? This was a challenge for me a few years ago and I hope I filled the brief. I can’t find the thing anymore it’s been so long 😬 sorry. I will update chapters as I edit. No beta, we all die on my poor editing skills.
> 
> This fic contains adult themes. It is not for those under age even without the smut. Please comment or contact me if any tags need added and I will update the fic as soon as I can.
> 
> If it needs additional tags lemme know.

Sherlock’s POV

“Sherlock, dear?”

Sherlock looked up from his experiment. He didn’t really have time to talk to anyone right now, but his mother’s tone made him pause. Her body language told him she was upset. Sherlock’s brow furrowed. He couldn’t deduce what was wrong. She was sad about him and he hadn’t done anything to disappoint her recently. Well, not that he knew of or intended to do, anyway. Perhaps he had offended someone by telling the truth about their intelligence again.

“Yes?” he asked, turning away from his experiment and giving her his full attention.

She took a seat and seemed to gather her thoughts.

“Well, you’re twenty now…” she stopped, clearly struggling with words.

Sherlock resisted the impulse to say, _“Obviously, your point?”_

She took a deep breath and said, “You haven’t been through second puberty yet.”

“And?” Sherlock prompts when she doesn’t say anything else. He’s tall and thin, he’s had his growth spurt and his voice has dropped. Just because he hasn’t gone into a rut yet doesn’t mean anything. He could be a beta, or he could just be malnourished. He has a complicated relationship with food.

“Your scent… it’s changing,” she says, looking at him with pity.

“So?”

She begs with her eyes for him to understand. Her hands clasped, white knuckles standing out in her lap.

“Me going into a rut isn’t a big deal, I don’t even want an omega, so I’ll suffer a bit, but it’ll be over soon enough without one.”

“Sherlock,” she says sadly.

Sherlock's brain finally disengages from his project and he focuses on his mother, thinking about everything she's _not_ saying.

“No,” Sherlock gasps with sudden realization. He knows what she’s implying. Late second puberty, scent changing after primary sexual characteristics have emerged…

Sherlock stood, sending his stool clattering to the ground. “No,” he says with finality; as if he argued enough it wouldn’t be true.

His mother didn’t react, just looked at him with sympathy.

“I’m not an omega! I’m not!” Sherlock shouted at her.

“Everyone will be able to smell it soon, we should get you a match before someone takes advantage.”

“Sell me, you mean!” Sherlock said scathingly.

“We’ll find someone kind—”

“I am no one’s broodmare!” Sherlock shouted into her face.

She stood and glared at him, “Sherlock Holmes, you are an omega. The sooner you accept your place the happier you’ll be.”

“Like you did?” he hissed the question at her.

She had told him stories, how she’d gone to school, even had offers to go to university, had a bright future before her scent changed from beta to omega and she was sold to their father. Their father was a kind man, sweet to her, he never forced her to do anything she didn’t want to do. It was why Sherlock was seven years younger than Mycroft. He was an accident, and Mycroft never let him forget it.

But he observed everyone in town, she was the exception, the only exception as far as he could see. He wouldn’t be that lucky.

“I wouldn’t treat the people who hold your fate in their hands like this,” she said coldly and swept out of the room.

Sherlock shouted in rage and swept the table, sending all his chemistry equipment to the floor. The shattering glass didn’t make him feel any better.

The puddles mixed before starting to sizzle and eat into the wood floor. The exact thing he hadn’t been able to accomplish for days and now he didn’t even know how he’d managed.

“Fuck!” he screamed and buried his fingers in his wild dark curls.

John’s POV

“Watson, you ready?” John’s squad leader asked before transforming.

He was a great brown dragon, much like John. Though, John’s brown was lighter and sandier. Like sand, John had spots in a mix of yellows, dark and light browns. John was their medic, but he was still combat trained. He had fantastic control over his dragon fire and was more accurate than a lot of dragons with his type of weapon. His range wasn’t long, though, and his skillset was too valuable to waste on putting him on the frontlines.

(And, the others never ceased to remind him, he was too small to fight properly.)

John checked his claws, they were sharp, recently polished, he unfurled his wings, stretching them, he checked his armour, every piece was in place across his face, neck, and chest. His armour had been silvery, a mix of several metals polished to a high shine when he’d first gotten it. Now it was dull brass colour covered in scratches and nicks from battle. The helmet had holes for his thick grey horns and had spikes around them. His spines along his back and tail had been polished, sharpened and the tips coated in metal. The edges of his wings had metal with spikes to protect his bones, the membrane was left uncovered, they hadn’t yet worked out how to protect the skin there without impacting flight.

_“Yes,”_ he replied telepathically. He couldn’t speak aloud in his dragon form. 

_“Good,”_ his squad leader replied in his mind before leading the whole team in a rallying cry before they took to the skies.

* * *

The war had started before John had been born. There were times of peace but the land his clan held was valuable and it was inevitable that other clans would attack for resources. No matter the peace treaty drawn up, eventually, one of the clans would break it and try to take their home. The brown dragons didn’t have hoards of gold or gems, no, nothing so trivial. The brown dragons controlled the mines that held the rocks that allowed dragons to shoot fire as opposed to just heated air.

John soared above cavernous mountains and miles of sand. His squad was going to strike one of the green dragon’s encampments in the forest. It was a long flight; it’d take several days of continuous just to get there and they’d meet the reconnaissance team and then they plan an attack that would take the green dragons out. Another group of brown dragons was going to meet them there coming from a different camp. John’s team was ranged support.

About halfway there he caught an odd scent on the wind.

_“Sir, I smell something,”_ John said.

_“Stay on mission,”_ Sholto, their commander, said.

Whatever it was, it smelled delicious. John found himself veering off course automatically.

_“Watson!”_ Murray, John’s nurse, shouted. _“It’s just an omega, leave it!”_

An omega? Omegas didn’t smell like _that_. Omegas smelled sickly sweet. Like the burnt sugar or those toasted marshmallows he’d seen the humans with.

This omega smelt like… sun after a spring rain. He still had a sweet base note, but it wasn’t cloying. 

John’s mouth watered.

_“Watch out!”_ John heard his squad leader shout before John’s world erupted into pain. He flapped his wings, trying to stay airborne, trying to find his attackers, but he was spiralling wildly. Blood was pouring out of his left wing, each beat with it caused his plagiopatagium to tear worse.

The ground rapidly approached and there was nothing John could do to stop it.

_“Please, gods, let me live.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @theartone and twitter @gizmotrinket, @gizmotrinketart I’m mostly only active on Discord though. Send me an invite to your server if you like being inundated with memes at 3am


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